I feel there have been certain things my life has centered around.  A theme becomes clear in the midst of confusion and chaos, and it is something I grasp on to.  It has a weird way of guiding me through the murky waters and the questions that arise.  It is often something small, typically unnoticed but by myself and the few people involved.  For months and months during the difficult break up from Jonathan, stars were a central theme.  There were two songs that I was (and still am) obsessed with that dealt with stars, eyes, guidance, and the wish to not lose someone (the songs are “Beautiful” by The Firebird Band and “Cosmic Love” by Florence + the Machine).  They are two songs that have had such an impact with their lyrics that they are on my queue for future tattoos.  Though I will not get a tattoo of this new theme, it is emerging, and it is becoming central to my life: sushi.

It seems that wherever I go, or whoever I speak to, sushi correlates to building friendships and relationships.  I have always shared sushi dinners with Kaitlyn.  It was, for the longest time, a Wednesday night activity between us.  There is a restaurant in Iowa City called Formosa.  On Wednesday’s they would have half price bottle of wine nights.  We would go and get a roll, a salad, and edamame, and then split a more expensive bottle of red wine.  Since coming back to the Chicago area, we have had similar nights, just talking girl talk and planning the next steps of our lives.  It feels very inclusive and like things are on the right track again.

When in California Jonathan and I did not have sushi once.  You would think that being as close (closer than Chicago or Iowa City) to the ocean as we were that it would have happened.  But it didn’t.  It’s this odd idea that sushi is right and the lack of sushi is wrong.  Things begin falling apart and all the small details that make life good, like sushi, disappear.  Granted, that is because when things go bad you lose some of the patience it takes to realize the small details.  But even in abject sadness, right when I returned from California, Kaitlyn suggested it one night.  Shortly afterwards I had this emotional awakening that desiring what I had is far worse than what I could have.  At least there is hope in what I could have.  I do not think it was the sushi that brought on this realization, but the theme was there, the symbolism that sushi holds for me, and it helped push me over the hump, to face the fear of potential loneliness, but also to help me realize that as long as I have those close friends, I will never, ever be alone.

Now sushi is coming into play again.  Eating it with Kaitlyn on Sunday and then entering Vintage Underground; finding all these wonderful artifacts from other people’s lives and turning them around to create something new and stylish.  The potential for Chicago living and the chance to reincarnate a living situation but with a higher degree of love and compassion.  It seems like everywhere I have gone in the past three days someone mentions sushi, and it is always accompanied with positive and affirming actions.  Beginning again, starting over, letting the cycle birth itself.  Maybe there is a heaven, and it involves Sweet Potato maki.

One thought on “Sushi.

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